Anger frustration and all of the things that flood to your mind in the time of trial like a whirlwind and it’s a wonder anyone can carry on. Forgive and forget, right? Or are you going to live in your hate? Hate never cured anyone. Hate never solved anything. It seems like love is the only thing that ever solved anything. For God so loved the world he made it better. Too bad many of us wallow in our own crapulence.
It just frustrates me. Why are we so quick to go with the worst answer? Can it ever be our first reaction to turn the other cheek? Or are we stuck with simply raising our fists, even if it’s only in our mind. Mental fists are probably worse than real ones, because you don’t know to protect your face–you just get hit when it’s the last thing you expect.
Why are people so mean to one another? Why is the world full of self-centered, self-loathing people? Can’t we all just get along? Why is forgiveness such a harsh medicine? What are we afraid of? Can’t you just talk about it and speak what’s on your mind? Why can’t “I don’t know” be an acceptable answer? There’s times in everyone’s life when they don’t know. Why do we always have to be so logical until we don’t make sense anymore? What’s the hidden agenda behind your question? Why can’t you realize that appearances do matter–if you look like you’re going to hit me, I’m going to defend myself. Can’t we be a little more forthright? Can’t we just be honest? Why do we have to hide it all inside?
Why do we have to ask questions about writings we don’t understand? Don’t we have enough problems of our own? Don’t we have our own issues that need to be dealt with, that shouldn’t be buried in the darkest corner of the shed to fester until they’re long forgotten and thornier than anyone could ever deal with? Can’t I just write my frustrations and speak my mind and let it all hang out and not worry about how it’s going to be read and who’s going to say what and who’s going to wonder what? It’s like a voyeuristic trip inside a mind; keep your hands and belongings inside the car at all times, don’t ask questions, and enjoy the ride. You were invited along for the ride, but you weren’t promised an explanation.
It feels better if you let it all out. Like a drowned man retching on the shore, you’ve got to let it go. You can’t hold a grudge against the ocean, when you’re the one who doesn’t know how to swim. You better learn to swim baby, because when it rains it pours. Just ask Noah.